Another Haunted
by genies9
Summary: My own take on Haunted based on the sample chapter... I'm reposting it because I deleted it before. RR if u havent already. FINISHED
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 2  
  
I stomped down the hallway toward Father Dominic's office during third period. I had to be told three times by three different novices to slow down, but it didn't matter. I was still furious from that morning. It turned out that Paul was in my homeroom, which just added to my sour mood. How exactly was I supposed to start out my junior year right when I had to see Paul Slater-who had purposely left the seat behind him open when there wasn't any other open seats-everyday?  
  
I was relieved when Miss Edmonds, my Algebra teacher, told me that Father Dom wanted to see me. I hadn't really seen Father Dominic since I'd gotten him to exorcise me so I could go after Jesse.  
  
I burst into his office and stopped dead in my tracks. Father Dominic was sitting at his desk, as usual, but the only thing I saw was who was sitting in the chair I always occupied. At first, all I saw was the back of his head-which, by the way, was covered in curly black hair-but I knew who it was.  
  
I stood, posed in the doorway, staring at him. Father D stood up suddenly, but I barely noticed. "Susannah," he said, sounding a bit agitated.  
  
I walked up and sat down in the other chair opposite of Father Dominic, and turned back to the ghost sitting in the other chair next to me.  
  
Yes, you read that right. A ghost.  
  
Jesse gave me this look that I couldn't quite understand. It was like a mix between worried-and I'll admit, for a minute I thought he was worried because he'd found out about Paul-and hurt. I couldn't get why he would feel hurt just then, but I knew that it had to be something big since, of course, Jesse didn't get hurt very easily.  
  
I narrowed my eyes. "What's wrong?" I looked from Jesse to Father Dom and back again. "What happened?"  
  
Father Dominic sat down again and looked at Jesse as he said, "I do not see how this could possibly be so important that it could not wait until after school. We can't just take Susannah out of class, you understand, Jesse, because you wish to. er. speak privately with her." He gave me a pointed look before he stood again. "If you need me, I will be outside in the lobby. Call me when you're finished." He left the office.  
  
I turned toward Jesse. Before I could say another word, he started talking. "Susannah, Spike is gone."  
  
I blinked. Spike is our cat. Ours meaning Jesse's and mine. Spike, unlike normal animals, seems to like Jesse, a ghost, his mortal enemy, more than he likes me, a living, breathing person who just happens to feed him and clean his litter box. The little flea bag, though, had actually started to warm up to me recently, which I found a bit unsettling, considering it had taken me eight months to get used to the fact that he hated my guts. But Jesse he adored for some reason.  
  
"What are you talking about?" I asked.  
  
Jesse got up and started to pace. He was really getting worked up about this, I could tell. I swear I thought that he was going to start balling or something. But of course, he wouldn't. Jesse, being a guy, isn't exactly the type to cry.  
  
"He hasn't been home since last night," Jesse said as he turned back to face me, looking seriously disturbed.  
  
To tell you the truth, I really wasn't all that worried. I mean, I was perfectly certain that Spike could take care of himself. He spent all the time that he wasn't eating or getting attention from Jesse-attention, I might add, that I should have been getting, if you asked me-he was outside, doing whatever it is cats do. So, of course, I wasn't very concerned about Spike. But I could see that Jesse obviously was. So I did what any sixteen- year-old girl in my situation would do.  
  
I went over to Jesse and grabbed his arm before he could continue pacing. Jesse looked down at me. Apparently, he saw in my expression that I wasn't all that concerned. "Susannah," he said, sounding irritated. "This is serious."  
  
"I know," I said defensively. "Look, Jesse, I know Spike, okay? He goes out all the time. He'll come back sooner or later. I mean, he does have to eat." I gave him a little hug, happy for my chance to feel his arms around me, even if it was in Father Dom's office and he was right outside. "It just makes me worried, you know, to see you so worked up." I tilted my head up and met his gaze. "Listen, I'm sure Spike's fine. The cat can take care of himself."  
  
I swear, at that moment Jesse's mouth was so close to mine that, for a minute, I thought he would kiss me. He'd done it a few times in the past two months. Mostly after I'd nearly died just to save him. I hadn't even uttered the "L" word to him, yet.  
  
But, of course, he didn't. Kiss me, I mean. Because at that moment Father Dominic walked into the office and interrupted what could have been a very romantic moment.  
  
"I beg your pardon," Father Dom said, clearing his throat loudly. "I think it's time for you to get to class, Susannah." He looked pointedly at Jesse who still had his arms around my waist. Jesse stepped away from me and I silently wished that Father D would go back outside.  
  
I crossed the room to the door. "I'll see you later, Father D," I said, putting my hand on the knob and glancing back at Jesse. "I'll keep an eye out for Spike," I told him. I left the office and started back to class.  
  
As if my day couldn't get any worse, on my way down the hall I ended up bumping right into some big oaf who had been barreling down the hall.  
  
"Hey, watch it!" I said, trying to sidestep him. I looked up and realized that the oaf was actually Brad-or, as I call him, Dopey-my stepbrother. He's not exactly the shiniest rock in the garden, hence his nickname, but he's on the wrestling team, so what can you expect? As it turns out, "oaf" is actually a very fitting term for him.  
  
"What are you doing out here?" Dopey asked.  
  
"I was talking to Father Dominic," I said, walking past him.  
  
Dopey looked like he wanted to say something more, but I was already halfway down the hall, heading toward the classroom door. "Later," I called to him.  
  
I walked through the front door that day after school and practically ran into my mother on her way out.  
  
"Oh, Suze," she said, "there's a boy in the kitchen who wants to see you." You could totally tell from her tone that she was excited. See, back in New York, I wasn't exactly Ms. Popularity. I didn't exactly have boys knocking down my door. So whenever a guy comes by, she gets even more excited than I do.  
  
"Oh, yeah? Who?" I asked curiously, starting toward the kitchen.  
  
My mom didn't get a chance to answer my question, because I pushed my into the kitchen and saw-who else?-Paul Slater sitting at the kitchen table.  
  
I stared at him. "What are you doing here?" I hissed.  
  
Paul raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow at me. "Suze, " he said, smiling slyly. "It's good to see you, too." He stood up and walked up close to me. Too close for my taste, if you ask me.  
  
I took a step back, and he smiled. "I was just wondering if you had thought about this morning," he said, giving me a knowing look.  
  
"This morning?" I croaked. God, why couldn't I stop shaking? He couldn't do anything to me in my kitchen. At least, I don't think he could. I took another step back, and suddenly I was backed up against the wall, with Paul only inches away from me. I could feel his chill as I stared at him, all too aware of the fear in my eyes.  
  
Paul's smile widened. "Now, Suze," he chided, "you know I wouldn't hurt you." He reached up and pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. I flinched. Paul leaned forward and whispered in my ear, "Of course, I seem to remember me promising that boyfriend of yours that he would pay one day. And I think I know how to do just that." Then he pulled something from his pocket.  
  
Okay, I'll be honest: I thought he was going to kill me right then and there. But instead, he held up a little slip of paper. I took the paper and stared down at it. All it said on it was a phone number and an address.  
  
"That's the number of where I'm staying," Paul informed me. He turned and went to the kitchen door, leaving me still plastered against the wall. "You can call me when you're ready." He said that last part like he knew for sure that I would. Call him, I mean.  
  
I stood there in the kitchen for a long time after Paul left. I stood there for so long that Doc-also known as David, my youngest stepbrother-asked me if I was okay.  
  
I blinked at him. "Excuse me?"  
  
"You looked kind of dazed," Doc informed me. "Like you were thinking too intently about something and just forgot to move or whatever." He shrugged before going to the fridge and pulling out a carton of orange juice. He opened that carton drank straight from the carton.  
  
Sick, I tell you. It's just sick. I mean, why do guys always insist on drinking juice straight from the carton? I swear in the past eight months I have been drinking less and less milk and juice.  
  
I went up to my bedroom where I found Jesse sitting in the window seat.  
  
It really isn't fair. I mean, I can't go one minute without someone intruding. Okay, I love Jesse, and usually I like seeing him and everything, but not right now. It hadn't exactly been the best day of my life, after all, and I just wanted to be left alone. I just wanted to lay down and take a nap for awhile. Anything that would get me away from everyone who seemed to enjoy jumping into my life every five minutes.  
  
I sat down on my bed, looking wearily at Jesse. "Look, Jess, I'm really tired right now. I've had enough of people for one day." I laid back on my bed, sighing. "I swear if I talk to one more person I will go nuts."  
  
Jesse stood up and walked over to my bedside to look down at me. "Is something wrong?" he asked, smiling, but just a little.  
  
I frowned at him. "No, I'm just tired, that's all. It's been a long day, you know." I closed my eyes, hoping that he'd take the hint and leave.  
  
But he didn't. Instead he sat down on my bed next to me and I had to yank my arm out of the way before he could squash it. "Susannah," he said in that silky voice of his that always seems to make me melt whenever he uses it. He tugged gently on my cashmere sweater, causing me to open my eyes and stare up at him. He smiled at me. "Listen to me, I realize that you are tired, but I want to talk to you, Susannah."  
  
I sat up, carefully not touching him for fear that I might turn into a quivering pile of goo if I did. I sighed. "Fine. What do you want to talk about?"  
  
"This morning in Father Dominic's office-"  
  
"Ugh, no." I turned over on my stomach and buried my face in my pillow. "Can we not talk about that stupid cat right now? I promise we'll find him, sooner or-"  
  
"Susannah," Jesse interrupted. He turned me back around so that I faced him. "That is not what I wanted to talk to you about." He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. When Paul had done it twenty minutes earlier, I'd felt scared. But when Jesse did it, it made me feel warm and happy for some reason.  
  
Suddenly I pulled away from him, rolling onto my side so that my face was tilted away from Jesse. I remembered what Paul had said. He said that Jesse was going to pay someday. And that I had something to do with how he would pay. Well, I wasn't going to give Paul a chance. I had to stay clear of Jesse, I decided, for our own good.  
  
Jesse looked down at me bewilderedly. "Susannah, is something wrong?" he asked, trying to get me to face him.  
  
Yes, something's wrong, I wanted to shout at him. Just when you're finally showing some interest in me-at least, I think you are-I have to pretend not to feel anything for you because I'm afraid of what Paul might do to me.  
  
That's what I thought. What I said was, "No, nothing's wrong. I'm just tired, that's all."  
  
Jesse blinked. "I see," he said, sounding a little hurt. I wanted to reach out to him and tell him that I really wanted to be with him right then. But I couldn't. I took the coward's way out and pretended not to care.  
  
Jesse stood up. "Well, I will go, then, I suppose. I'll let you get your. rest." You could tell from his tone that he wasn't very happy with me. Nor did he really believe that I just wanted to take a nap. I mean, I did, but I would have given anything to spend that time with Jesse instead.  
  
But, I thought as Jesse dematerialized, that couldn't happen just yet. Not until I figured out a way to handle Paul, anyway. And I wasn't about to drag Jesse into this. I know it was cowardly, but I truly was afraid of what Paul would do to me if he thought that he could get to Jesse through me.  
  
I sighed. I would still have to deal with Paul, I knew. I mean, he was right: there was a lot I didn't know, a lot I wanted to find out. And apparently he was the only person who could give me the answers. And he knew it, too. That's why he knew that I'd call him. I was curious, and the only person who could feed my curiosity was him. Besides, if I didn't I'd continue to have nightmares about him.  
  
I wondered, though, why Paul would bother telling me anything if he was going to. well, kill me, I guess. Because that's what he planned to do, I knew with all too much certainty. And he knew that I knew it, too. He had information that I wanted, so I had to come to him sooner or later. And when I did, he'd do what he'd been planning to do the whole time-what I was sure that he would do the first opportunity he saw-and then I'd have to do something rash. I wasn't sure exactly what yet, but I knew I'd have to do something.  
  
So, as weird as it might sound, I came up with a plan. If I was going to get lured into a trap, I was going to do it in style. I wasn't going to let Paul get the best of me, not if I could help it, anyway. Two could play at this game, and I wasn't about to lose.  
  
The next day I decided I was going to take my new wardrobe and milk it for all it was worth. Dressed in my khaki skirt-you know, one of those that buttons up in the front-and a white, ruffled shirt with a totally cute floral design (not to mention my high-heeled sandals) I strutted into the breezeway, getting a few looks on my way, if I may mention it.  
  
I spotted him at his locker. I took a deep breath and crossed the floor to him, trying to look graceful and sexy when my heart was racing. Paul saw me coming and smiled broadly, looking me up and down as I sidled up next to him.  
  
"Well, good morning, Suze," he said knowingly. "And to what do I honor this little visit?"  
  
I plastered a sweet smile on my face, leaning forward a little. I prayed that he couldn't see my fear, because I really was terrified. But this was for Jesse, I reminded myself. Yeah. For Jesse.  
  
"I was just thinking about what we were talking about last night," I replied, placing a hand on his arm. I cringed inwardly. I tossed my hair a little, smiling up at him. "I mean, you're right, there are a lot of questions I have for you." God, I thought, why did he have to look so good? It would have been so much easier to hate him if he wasn't so damn good- looking. I mean, seriously, while we were standing there-and, unfortunately, his locker was right in the middle of the breezeway-people would shoot looks at us as they passed. More than a few girls shot me envious looks. Well, I mused, they could have him, because I certainly didn't want him.  
  
Focus, Simon, I ordered myself. Just say what you came here to say. I cleared my throat. "But, you know, I was thinking of something else you said, too."  
  
Paul raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what exactly would that be?" He smiled.  
  
"Well, after all, you know, you were right." I laced my fingers around his wrist and gazed up at him. "Jesse really isn't my type," I said, pretending to admire my perfectly manicured hands against his darkly tanned-and, may I point out, very muscular-arm. Then, feeling the urge to vomit, I met Paul's gaze. God, he was good-looking. I shook myself mentally. "But, you know, I was thinking, maybe you and I could." I raised my eyebrows suggestively.  
  
Paul's smile widened. He knew I was lying. I mean it, I am not that good an actress. In fact, I probably would've gotten kicked out of the drama club- that is, if I'd been in drama club-for my little performance just then.  
  
Paul leaned against his locker, regarding me with an amused glance. "Suze, are you trying to ask me out?"  
  
I raised my eyebrows, unable to bite out just a little sarcasm. "Are you, Paul, accepting? Or am I just wasting my time?" To emphasize my point, I turned on my heel and started to walk away.  
  
"Wait," Paul said, grabbing my arm and pulling me back. "I didn't even answer your question yet, Suze," he said, smiling. "But, since you asked. well, I would like to go out with you." He looked down, smirking slightly. It took me a minute to realize what he was looking at, and it was all I could do not to cross my arms over my chest. "I have plans tonight, but I'm free tomorrow."  
  
I nodded. "Okay, umm, sounds good," I stammered, stepping back.  
  
"Suze!"  
  
I turned around to see Adam walking toward me. I don't think that I've ever been so happy to see anyone in my whole life more than I was at that moment to see Adam. A quick glance around told me that CeeCee was no where in sight.  
  
"Hi!" I said, a little too perkily. I grabbed onto his elbow. "Mind walking me to class?" I sent Adam a look that said if he didn't I'd break his arm.  
  
"Suze," Paul said smoothly from behind me. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" Without waiting for my answer, Paul stepped forward and held out his hand. "I'm Paul Slater."  
  
Adam glanced down at the hand before shaking it. "Adam McTavish," he greeted. "Are you and Suze-"  
  
"Friends," I interjected, even though it wasn't true. "Paul and I are friends. I baby-sat his little brother last summer," I explained hastily to Adam. Then, in a low whisper, "Would you mind walking me to class.now?" I squeezed his elbow tightly in case he wasn't getting the importance of my getting out of there.  
  
"Ah, yeah, it was nice meeting you, Paul," Adam said, glancing curiously down at me. "But we've really got to be getting back to class."  
  
With that, I hauled out of there, using Adam as a sort of shield, not bothering to glance back at Paul just so I could see his knowing smile again. Once I was sure we were out of Paul's line of sight, I released Adam's elbow. "Thanks," I muttered to him as we continued down the hallway. "I appreciated that."  
  
"Yeah, I could tell." Adam looked over his shoulder. "What was that all about anyway?" He glanced back at me.  
  
I shook my head. "Nothing all that important," I lied. "He just makes me uncomfortable, that's all." But, as I knew only too well, that wasn't the half of it. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 3  
  
After school, I met my stepbrothers out in the school parking lot. My oldest stepbrother, Jake-who I call Sleepy-takes classes at the nearby community college, so when he didn't have a class he would pick me, Doc, and Brad-who I call Dopey-after school.  
  
We all piled into the car, Dopey sitting up front by Sleepy, and Doc and I in the back. As we started to go out of the parking lot, Dopey turned around in his seat to look back at me. "I heard you're going out with Paul Slater tomorrow night," he said in an accusing tone, as if daring me to admit that a guy like Paul would date me.  
  
I pretended to look out the window. "Yeah? Where'd you hear that?" I asked.  
  
"Who's Paul Slater?" Sleepy wanted to know.  
  
Dopey answered for me. "He's this new guy at school. During Chemistry, Paul was bragging to me that Suze asked him out this morning." I shot Dopey a dirty look but he ignored me. "She's got the hots for him."  
  
Sleepy glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "Is that why you're dressed like that?"  
  
Doc looked at me thoughtfully. "You know, Suze, when peacocks are looking for a mate, the males show off their tail feathers to attract the females. Sort of like what you were doing with Paul."  
  
"I do not," I said, turning bright red, "have the hots for Paul Slater!" I looked down at my outfit. "And what, I'd like to know, is wrong with my outfit?" I glared at them, daring any of them to answer that question.  
  
I swear, this is why, for the first sixteen years of my life, I was an only child. I mean, before my mom married Andy and moved us to sunny California, I never had to listen to so many stupid people at once. Well, okay, that wasn't technically true. Doc wasn't dumb. In fact, he was the person I went to for homework help, even though he was three years behind me. But then, back when I lived in New York, guys weren't all that interested in me.  
  
Not that Paul was interested in me. No, he definitely wasn't. I mean, back when I'd been working at the place he and his family was staying at, I had thought he did. But guys don't normally go around planning to kill the girls they're interested in. At least, that's what I thought Paul was planning to do. I mean, what else could he mean but that? Obviously he didn't want to date me. Not that I wanted to date him either. Sorry, but murderers weren't exactly my type.  
  
Well, okay, Paul wasn't a murderer. At least, I was pretty sure he wasn't. Yet, anyway.  
  
It wasn't until dinner that I realized just how much trouble I was in. "So, Suze," my mom said, setting down a bowl of mash potatoes on the table. "David says that you've got a date tomorrow night," she said, sitting down at the table. "Is it with that nice boy who was here yesterday?"  
  
I shot a look at Doc. He shrugged, grinning at me sheepishly. "Yeah," I mumbled. "But it's no big deal, really."  
  
Andy, my stepdad, sat down next to my mom at the table. "Of course it is, Suze. It's always a big deal when someone in this family gets a date." He smiled at me.  
  
I rolled my eyes.  
  
Toward the end of dinner, we got a visitor. No, it wasn't Paul, or anyone like that. It was Jesse. He doesn't usually come around when my family's there, but this time, I guess, was different. And he looked pretty happy about something. Apparently, he hadn't been paying attention to what I'd been doing that day.  
  
As luck would have it, my mom chose that moment to ask, "So, Suze, what's this boy's name?"  
  
I glanced at Jesse frantically. "Umm, well."  
  
"Paul Slater," Dopey said through his chewing. "He's in my Chem class."  
  
I watched as Jesse's face darkened. I blushed. "Yeah," I said, turning back to my mom. "He just transferred here. I had to baby-sit his little brother when they were here this summer." I poked at my chicken teriyaki. "I guess he's here for the year." I glanced up at Jesse who was still standing, staring at me, behind Doc's chair. I took a swig of my grapefruit juice, then stood up. "You know what? I'm not that hungry. I think I'll just go upstairs and do some homework."  
  
I grabbed my plate and pushed my way into the kitchen. Jesse materialized in front of me. "Jeez, Jesse, don't do that." I tossed the rest of my dinner in the garbage, and then stuck my plate in the dishwasher. I avoided looking at Jesse as best I could. But God, he was mad. You could totally tell he was, too, because the cabinets around us were shaking.  
  
"Susannah," Jesse said. "Why didn't you tell me Paul was here?" When I didn't answer him, he grabbed my arm and forced me to look up at him.  
  
My lip trembled. "I. I was afraid that you'd get mad," I said dumbly, shrinking back from him. Normally, I wouldn't have minded. Jesse touching me, I mean. But right then, he was making me very uncomfortable.  
  
I guess he saw this, because his expression softened. "Susannah, why would you agree to. how did your mother put it? Ah, yes, go out with this boy?" He took my chin in his hand and lifted my face to look up at his. "Susannah, he tried to kill you. How could you possibly want to go out with him?"  
  
"Well, he didn't exactly try to kill me." I said, all too aware of how much my voice was quivering. "I mean, he just-"  
  
"Susannah," Jesse interrupted, getting angry again. "Listen to me, all right? This boy. Paul. he's dangerous. He has secrets that you don't want to learn about." He let go of me and began to pace. "He'll hurt you, do you understand?" He leveled his gaze at me. "Susannah-"  
  
I held up my hand. "Jesse, I'm a big girl, okay? I can take care of myself." I stuffed my hands in my pockets. "And I can chose who my boyfriends are. You can't do that for me."  
  
Jesse stared at me. "Susannah, I-"  
  
I pushed passed him, marching toward the door. "Mind your own business, Jess. Okay? This doesn't concern you." Then, feeling sick to my stomach, I left the kitchen and ran up to my room.  
  
Look, don't get me wrong, okay? I love Jesse. I really do. It's just that. well, I knew Jesse was right. About Paul being dangerous, I mean. But what was I supposed to do? I couldn't just say, You know what, Jesse? You're right. I should tell Paul to get lost. That wouldn't work at all. I mean, if I did that, what was I going to find out? That I had no backbone? I didn't have much of a choice. And when it was over, I'd apologize to Jesse. That is, if it was ever over.  
  
Somehow I made it through the next day. I didn't see Jesse, and I got the feeling that, even if I did, I wouldn't have known what to say to him.  
  
I didn't see Paul either, as it turned out. At least, not until after lunch. He came in late to English, interrupting Miss Rice during her "fascinating" description of the definition some word that I had known since my freshman year.  
  
After class I met up with Paul in the hall.  
  
"Hey," I said, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt. He stopped and looked at me. For the first time, his confident smile was slow coming. But before I could make anything of it, it was back on his face.  
  
"Hey, Suze," he greeted.  
  
I swallowed. "Hey, where were you earlier? I didn't see you at homeroom or anything." I tried to make my tone sound nonchalant, but I knew it was a little squeaky. For some reason the fact that he had let his guard down, even for just a second, had unnerved me. In some weird way I thought of it as sort of the normal thing for him to always be self-confident and knowing.  
  
Paul shrugged. "I had business to take care of," he informed me. He left it at that, like that was all I needed to know. He took my arm-which, can I just say, made me feel like I was a little girl, being led around the school? I fought down the urge to jerk my arm away from Paul.  
  
I could feel my skin crawl as we made our way through the throngs of people. I caught more than a few girls glancing at us as we passed them. I glanced up at Paul, noting the way he scanned the hallway, nodding to various people as we passed. He made it seem like there was nothing going on right then, but I knew better. My stomach twisted into a knot and I tried to remove my arm from Paul's grasp. He tightened his hold on me and steered me toward my locker.  
  
"I can get there on my own, you know," I mumbled to him as we came to a stop.  
  
Paul gritted his teeth a moment, then smiled at me. It almost passed as a sincere smile, except I could see the fire in his blue eyes. I took a step back from him, trying not to show how afraid of him I was right then. I hate being scared and I wasn't about to show my fear to a guy who planned- at least, I think he was planning-to kill me.  
  
"Look, Suze, I'm having a very bad day right now, all right?" I turned and started to open my locker as he talked. "I would really appreciate it if you would just work with me here, all right?"  
  
I glanced at him, raising my eyebrows. "What could have possibly been so bad about your day?" I closed my locker, and started down the hall again, Paul close behind me.  
  
Paul grunted. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." He gave a small smile, then veered off and went in the opposite direction.  
  
I should have realized then that something was wrong. But I didn't. I just pushed it off as something having to do with a ghost. That's what mediators were supposed to deal with, anyway. At least, I assumed Paul was a mediator.  
  
I just didn't know how right I was. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 4  
  
It wasn't until I got home that day that I realized that there was more going on than what I thought.  
  
Dropping down on my bed, I noticed my window was open. I frowned. I got up to close the window, a large orange ball of fuzz leaped through the window and into my room.  
  
I jumped back, trying to avoid being hit by Spike's claws.  
  
"Jeez," I muttered, going back to my bed, where I took up a magazine. I expected Jesse to show up then. After all, he had been so worried about Spike. But he didn't come. I figured that it had to be because he was still mad at me. But as the minutes ticked by, I realized that it wasn't like Jesse to stay away after we fought. Usually he came back the next day.  
  
A picture of Paul flashed through my head. Had he done something to Jesse? I pushed the thought from my mind. Paul couldn't do anything to Jesse. At least, I didn't think he could. But even as I thought this I realized that I didn't know what Paul could do.  
  
Later that night, I stood in the front hallway, waiting for Paul. I pulled on the skirt of my silver slip dress. It was too short. I considered changing, but I decided against it. It was too late now.  
  
The doorbell rang and my mom, who had been waiting with me, rushed to open it. You could totally tell she was excited about my date with Paul. It was almost pathetic.  
  
The door swung open and my mom said, "Hello, you must be Paul. I'm Mrs. Ackerman."  
  
I could see Paul over my mom's shoulder. He was smiling broadly. "It's nice to meet you." He looked at me in a way that made me tug at my dress self- consciously. This only made him smile more. "Hello, Suze," he greeted. "You look lovely tonight."  
  
And so did he. He had on a white, button down shirt and a black tie, which would have looked horrible on anyone else, but looked great on him. I swallowed hard, plastering a smile on my lips. I just had to get through this one night, I reminded myself.  
  
After my mom fussed over us for a good ten minutes, Paul and I finally made it out of the house and we started toward his car. I'm not sure what I expected him to drive, really. Maybe a sports car or something like that. But instead, he just drove a jeep. And it wasn't even a new jeep either, if the rust on the sides were any indication.  
  
Paul took my arm and led me to the jeep. He opened the door for me, smiling appraisingly as he took in all that my dress revealed. I fought down the urge to tug at my skirt once more.  
  
When Paul got into the driver's seat, I asked, "So, where are we going?"  
  
"You'll see," was all he would say.  
  
My stomach twisted with dread, but I didn't say anything. Whatever it was Paul was planning, he was doing a pretty good job of keeping it to himself.  
  
We stopped in the parking lot for the forest preserve. I glanced around. It probably was a good place to take a girl you were planning to murder, I mused. No one really came there at night, so we would be alone.  
  
Taking a deep breath, I followed Paul out of the car. He took my hand-once more making my skin crawl-and led me down a path. I'm not sure how far we went, but soon we came to a small meadow. Paul led me to the center of it where he had spread a blanket and a picnic basket. It would've been kind of romantic, if it had been with someone else.  
  
Which reminded me about Jesse. I took a deep breath. "Paul, I need to talk to you about-"  
  
Paul stopped and motioned for me to sit on the blanket. I did so with a horrible sinking feeling. Paul sat beside me, his leg brushing against mine. Even through the material of his black pants, I could feel his chill. I stifled a cringe. "Not now, Suze," he said in a low voice, opening the basket. He took out a bottle-filled, I noted, with ginger ale-and two glasses. "Let's not talk about that right now." He poured me a glass, then himself one. I swallowed the contents quickly, hoping that it would make this "date" go faster. Why, I wondered, didn't he want to talk? Wasn't that the whole point?  
  
Apparently not, because he also took from the basket a bowl of assorted fruit and, of all things, fed them to me. I'm not kidding. I wanted to tell him to stop, but I had to remind myself that I was supposed to be acting here. But really, it was all I could do to not wipe that smug look off his face.  
  
Needless to say, I didn't learn anything that night. My mind was on Jesse, and I was almost positive now that Paul had something to do with his disappearance. But he wouldn't talk about it. Each time I tried to bring it up, he made me eat another strawberry or something.  
  
Finally, he took me home. When he stopped in front of my house, I nearly dived for the door handle. But instead Paul grabbed my arm. He was holding on so tightly that I was afraid he might be trying to break it.  
  
"Suze," he said silkily, pulling me around to face him. "What's your rush?"  
  
I tried feebly to jerk my arm from his grasp, but he just held on tighter, his smile growing. God, I hated this guy. He knew I was terrified and he was enjoying every minute of it.  
  
"I.I have to get going," I gulped. "I'm really tired, you know."  
  
Paul didn't answer. Instead, he undid his seat belt and slunk his arm around my waist. What was he doing? When I asked him that, he merely smiled. He drew me in closer and kissed me hard. It was probably the most repulsive thing I'd ever been subjected to.  
  
I opened my mouth to protest, but his tongue flooded my mouth. I tried to push away, but he was too strong. His arms tightened around me, suffocating me. Finally, in an act of pure desperation, I bit down hard on his tongue.  
  
His eyes widened and he pushed me away. Some of his blood filled my mouth, and I felt as though I was going to barf.  
  
Paul wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes narrowing. "You little witch," he hissed, though he didn't say witch. He looked as though he wanted to lunge at me, but instead he muttered, "I'm going to make you regret that. You and your little boyfriend are going to pay dearly."  
  
I didn't doubt it. I pushed open the passenger door, nearly running toward my house. When I turned back to look to see if Paul had gone, he was still there, watching me. I took a deep breath, and went back inside.  
  
My mom was there, waiting for me. She made me tell her everything. I only left out the kiss. I didn't want her to know about that. I'd probably have nightmares about it for days.  
  
I finally made it to my room, collapsing onto my bed, not bothering to change. Spike was still there. I sat up. What if Paul had exorcised Jesse? Or had he done something else to Jesse, something more horrible.  
  
I decided to call him. "Jesse?" I called out as loudly as I dared. "Jesse!" But he didn't come. I didn't really expect him to, but I just needed to be sure.  
  
The next day, I stayed home. I didn't want to face Paul. This entire thing was spinning out of control. If Paul wanted to play this game, fine. But I was going to do it my own way.  
  
As soon as I was sure Paul would be home, I took out the slip of paper that he'd given me. I dialed the number, my fear building with each ring.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Paul?" I said, surprised at how calm I sounded.  
  
"Suze," Paul said. You could totally tell by his tone that he was smirking. "What can I do for you?"  
  
I took a deep breath. "You know why I'm calling."  
  
Paul laughed. He sounded much more cheerful than I had expected him to be, especially after last night. But then, I shouldn't have been surprised. After all, I was doing exactly what he wanted-what he expected-me to do.  
  
"Yeah, I know why you're calling. Am I'm glad you did. But I can't tell you now." There was a long pause as I waited anxiously. Why was he trying to make me wait? Then, "Meet me tonight. On the slip of paper I gave you is an address. Go there as soon as you can. I'll be waiting for you." Click!  
  
I sighed, hanging up the phone.  
  
After dinner that night, I excused myself early, saying that I was tired and needed to go to bed. I figured that if I was going to die, I might as well be well rested.  
  
I was asleep within minutes, but it wasn't a peaceful sleep.  
  
I was back in purgatory, in the long hallway filled with doors that I could not open. I looked around, searching, searching for something.  
  
"Susannah?" a familiar voice came from ahead of me.  
  
I glanced up. Jesse was standing only a dozen feet away from me, smiling at me as though nothing had happened. Before I could speak though, he turned and ran down the hallway. I ran after him, calling for him to stop. But he continued running, and I couldn't seem to reach him.  
  
"Jesse!"  
  
At the end of the hallway, an opening appeared and through it I could see a bright light. Oh, no, I though. Jesse was going toward that light, and he wasn't going to stop. I ran faster, but I was too late. Jesse passed through the opening and disappeared.  
  
"No!" I tried to follow him, but a hand reached out and grabbed me by the shoulder, pulling me back. I fought him, but he pulled me farther and farther away from the opening. "Let me go," I said, frustrated. "I have to get Jesse."  
  
A familiar laugh broke out that made my blood run cold. I turned around, and there was Paul, smirking down at me. Fear overtook me and I tried feebly to get away from him.  
  
"Now, Suze, what are you so afraid of?" Paul pulled me roughly to him, not even bothering to resist my attempts at getting away. I couldn't go anywhere and we both knew it. Paul reached for something that I couldn't see, but whatever it was terrified me. "Just remember," he said softly in my ear, "you brought all this on yourself."  
  
I awoke in a cold sweat. I had to stop Paul. Jumping out of bed, I pulled on my usual ghost-busting outfit: black jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. I pulled out my new leather mini-backpack and filled it with a pocketknife I'd found at a thrift store, and a long piece of rope. I'm not sure what I planned to do with the rope, but I figured that I might need it.  
  
I shoved open my bedroom window and slipped out onto the porch roof. As quietly as I could, I slunk down to the edge, then lowered myself to the ground. Taking a deep breath, I went around to the garage, where I took out Dopey's old bike.  
  
As it turned out, the address that Paul had given me was an old abandoned warehouse down by the docks. The entire place was deserted at this end of the docks. It was the perfect place for what Paul was probably planning. My heart pounded in my ears as I pushed open the old wooden door into the warehouse.  
  
"Paul?" I called out, squinting in the dark. I stepped farther into the building, letting the door close behind me. Maybe he wasn't there yet, I thought. I took a deep breath, waiting impatiently for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. A sound came from behind me. I turned. "Paul?"  
  
Something hard hit me in the side of the head. I wasn't ready for the blow; he had caught me off guard. I stumbled forward. Another blow connected with the base of my neck and I went down in an instant.  
  
I didn't lose consciousness immediately. I was awake long enough to feel Paul-because it definitely was Paul who'd attacked me-rifle through my mini backpack. Oh, God, I realized as I drifted off, he was taking what little defense that I had with me.  
  
The last thing I was aware of was the sound of Paul taking the rope out of the mini backpack. But before I could find out what he was going to do with the rope, I finally lost consciousness 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 5  
  
I woke up to remarkably more light than I had expected. I blinked up at the illuminated ceiling. I tried to touch my head, but I found that my hands and feet were bound by the rope from my backpack.  
  
"It really was nice of you, Suze, to bring along so many handy tools," Paul said from only a few feet away. I tried to sit up, but I failed. I heard Paul get up and walk over to me. He stood above me, looking supremely pleased with my helpless state. He grinned. "It will make all of this so much easier." Then, he reached down and pulled me up into a sitting position. "There you are."  
  
Gritting my teeth, I glanced around the room. The light that I had noticed came from the dozen or so candles that Paul had set out. I saw in an instant what he had used to knock me out: a long length of wood lay off to the side.  
  
Paul resumed his seat against the wall. He smiled at me. He toyed with something in his hand. My pocketknife. I tried to fight against the ropes but I couldn't, they were too tight. Paul laughed at my attempts. "Suze, you're really only making things harder on yourself."  
  
I took a deep breath. This wasn't the time to fight. Not yet, anyway. "You were going to tell me something," I said tersely. Paul nodded. "Yes. I think that it's only fair that I tell you what you want to hear." He stood, then turned to face me. "You and I, as you know, are able to converse with the dead. But we're not do-gooders like the priest and my brother." He leaned forward, smiling. "You and I, Suze, we can control them. We can make them do whatever we want, and they can't fight us." His smile broadened as my eyes widened at this news. "We can send them on without any of that exorcism crap."  
  
I swallowed hard. "You're lying," I said weakly, though even as I said it I knew Paul was telling the truth. There was a proud glint in his eye that made me believe every word.  
  
Paul laughed. "You know I'm not, Suze."  
  
"Is that what you did to Jesse?" I asked, glaring up at him. I wished that he would sit down, because when he stood, he was very intimidating-which was more than likely what he wanted. "Did you send him on to Heaven or whatever?" My stomach churned as I waited for him to answer.  
  
"No, not yet," he said, sauntering to the center of the candles that he'd set out. The flames cast an eerie glow on him. "But I'm sure you'll be thrilled to know that he's been trying very hard to get back to you. That is, until I made him stop." He crossed the floor to me again and squatted down in front of me. "Call him."  
  
I blinked at him. "What?"  
  
Paul grabbed my chin and tilted it up to look right into his eyes. "Call him." He said this in a voice that made me jerk, like my body was fighting to do what he said. My mouth was even open before I realized what he was doing. He was trying to control me. Except I wasn't a ghost. Which was probably the only reason I didn't do it. At least not right away.  
  
But then Paul grabbed me by the shoulders, the fire in his eyes spreading to the rest of his face. "Call him!"  
  
My body jerked in response to his command. I tried hard to resist him but he was too powerful.  
  
"Jesse," I croaked. My voice didn't feel like my own. I felt like a puppet, and Paul was the puppet master. The cruel, evil puppet master.  
  
And Jesse came. He appeared behind Paul, looking surprised to be there. Then he saw me. "Susannah!" He started toward me.  
  
"Stop!"  
  
Paul's command hit Jesse differently than it did to me. Jesse didn't jerk in resistance; he just stopped where he was, like his feet were glued to the floor. He glared at Paul with pure hatred that I had never seen in him before. His clenched and unclenched his fists. He looked at me, and I swear I caught a glimpse of fear in his eyes.  
  
Paul laughed. "This is beautiful," he murmured. He patted my cheek and stood up. Looking at Jesse, his smile slowly widened. "Now comes the interesting part." Paul looked at me almost pityingly, which made me really mad. I hate it when people look at me like they feel bad for me.  
  
"Just remember, Suze," Paul said. "You brought all of this on yourself." Then he turned back to Jesse, speaking in the same voice he had used before, "Kill her."  
  
Jesse walked toward me, closing the gap between us in an instant. I could see in his face, though, that he was trying to fight Paul. But he couldn't. He squatted before me, just as Paul had done, and wrapped his hands around my neck. I twisted away, but Jesse grabbed me roughly and wrapped his hands around my neck again.  
  
"Jesse," I gasped as he tightened his grip. "You don't have to do this. Fight him!"  
  
"He can't!" Paul crowed from his place behind Jesse. "He can't do a thing."  
  
I gasped for air. I was helpless-Jesse, even when he wasn't under Paul's control, was stronger than I was. And it didn't help any that my hands and feet were tied together.  
  
Jesse gritted his teeth, even as his fists tightened. "Susannah," he hissed through his teeth. "Tell me to stop."  
  
It took me a minute to realize what he meant. He was talking about my "gift." But he didn't understand. I wasn't as powerful as Paul was.  
  
Jesse leaned closer. "Do it," he said quietly.  
  
"Stop." I squeaked. Everything was starting get very fuzzy. My eyes fluttered.  
  
But just as I was sure I was going to die, Jesse let go of me. I slumped back, gasping for air. And then, I thought of one last command to give to Jesse. "Don't listen to anything he tells you to do!" I said as loudly as I could, trying to mimic Paul's tone.  
  
Jesse only smiled at me, then turned and started toward Paul.  
  
Paul wasn't standing where I'd last seen him. Instead, he was standing at the center of the candles, holding one of them in the air with one hand, the long slab of wood that he'd used to hit me in the other. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he warned.  
  
I looked around frantically, trying to find someway to stop Paul. If I didn't do something, he'd set the old warehouse on fire. And considering the condition it was in, it was going to go up in a moment.  
  
I spotted my pocketknife, which Paul had apparently dropped, no more than a dozen feet away. The only problem was, I couldn't exactly get up and walk over to it. So I had to army crawl across the dirty floor-and let me tell you: dust and dirt show up on black. I wasn't exactly looking my very best right then-to the knife. Behind me, I heard Jesse and Paul fighting.  
  
I finally grabbed onto the knife as best I could, then went about the difficult task of cutting the ropes. As it turns out, it's not like in the movies, where you can just cut the ropes easily. Oh, no, I was only halfway through the ropes around my wrists when I looked up and saw that Paul wasn't holding the slab of wood or the candle anymore.  
  
Instead, he had lit the wood and dropped it to the warehouse floor. The fire was spreading. In their struggle, Paul and Jesse had managed to knock over all but one of the candles. Smoke was starting to billow up around me. I tried to hurry with cutting the ropes, but I only managed to free one hand.  
  
That's because just then, one of the boards that held up the now crumbling warehouse struck me in the back of the head before I even had the chance to look up. 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 6  
  
I woke up much later to a ceiling that definitely was not my own. It was a blinding white. I blinked several times before sitting up, which only resulted in making my head hurt like crazy. I probably had a concussion, considering all the times I'd taken a blow to the head that night.  
  
I realized in a minute where I was. That's only because, at that moment, I heard my mom cry out, "Suzie!"  
  
She hugged me tightly. "Oh, Suze, we were so worried about you! The doctor said that you were involved in a fire down by the docks." She looked down at me. "What on Earth were you doing there?"  
  
So I told my mom the entire story. Well, okay, that's not really true. I only told her the part about Paul trying to kill me and the way he'd been acting like a stalker ever since I first met him last summer. But I didn't tell her about Jesse, or my newly found powers. I did tell her that I thought that the reason Paul had tried to kill me was because I had rejected him. Stupid, I know, but I had little doubt that it was true at that point.  
  
As it turned out, I had to tell this same story to the cops, who came in a little while later. Before they left, though, I asked, "Hey, is Paul okay?"  
  
One of the police officer glanced at his partner, then at my mom, then at me. My stomach twisted painfully. I swear I thought that they had questioned Paul first, and he'd made them think that I was the one who was trying to kill him. But instead, he said, "When our team went to the site, we couldn't find him."  
  
From the way he was looking at me, I got the feeling that he thought Paul was dead. I doubted that very much, though. Paul Slater was not the kind of guy who would go and get himself killed. He was too smart for that. I figured that wherever he was, he was alive, and very, very angry. And, as I had to find out the hard way, a mad Paul Slater is never a good thing.  
  
I made it out of the hospital three days later. My mom kept me home for the rest of the next week. During that time, I got a call from the cops, saying they had information I might be interested in. Thinking that they'd found Paul, I got Sleepy to take me down there.  
  
But when I got to the Carmel Police Station, I found out that the cops hadn't found Paul yet. The guy I talked to, though, Detective Arnold, showed me into his office.  
  
"Miss Simon," he said when we had both taken a seat at either side of his big oak desk. He pushed his glasses farther up his nose. "We have some interesting information on Paul Slater that I thought you might like to see." He took out this manila folder and handed it to me. "These are several cases that Seattle sent to us yesterday morning."  
  
I skimmed through the papers in the folder, frowning. They were victim profiles, all girls. They were all pretty enough, you know, and they were all extremely smart and active in school. And each one of them had been murdered.  
  
I looked up at Detective Arnold. "You think that Paul had something to do with these girls?"  
  
The detective nodded. "According to Homicide up in Seattle, Paul had had relationships with each of these girls. There were a number of claims by their friends that they had seen Paul and the girls fighting constantly before they were murdered." He took the folder from me, scanning it. "According to friends, Slater was a very jealous boyfriend. He never took no for an answer, either."  
  
I'd noticed. I shivered. Paul had killed before, and apparently he had no problem with doing it again, if the way he'd acted with me was any indication.  
  
When I got home later that day, I found Jesse sitting in my window seat, petting Spike who, I might add, looked quite pleased by this.  
  
Jesse looked up at me. I hadn't seen him since that night at the warehouse, which was a rare occurrence.  
  
I stopped when I saw him. "Hey," I said in the squeaky voice that I always seem to use when Jesse was around.  
  
"Hi," Jesse greeted. "How are you feeling?"  
  
I shrugged, crossing the room to my bed and sitting down on it. "Better, I guess." I felt the odd urge to go over and sit next to him, but I stayed put. "How about you?" I asked dumbly. "I mean, are you okay?"  
  
Jesse, who had been holding Spike in his lap, set the cat on the floor and stood up. "I'm all right." He came and sat beside me. I swear my heart started racing as soon as he did. God, I'm such a loser. Jesse could obviously see my uneasiness, because he grabbed my hand-something, I might add, he almost never does-and stared down at me. "Querida," he said in that silky voice of his.  
  
I glanced up at Jesse, seeing his worried expression. "Look, Jess, I'm fine. Just a little worn out, that's all." But I didn't try to pull my hand away.  
  
Jesse sighed. "Susannah, I'm sorry about what I did to you-"  
  
I cut him off. "Jesse, look, it wasn't your fault. Paul was controlling you." I took a deep breath. "He did the same thing to me, when he made me call you." I frowned. "That's something I don't get, actually. How could he control me? I mean, I'm not a ghost."  
  
There was a long silence. Finally, Jesse said, "It is because you have a soul. Just because you're alive does not mean that Paul, or anyone like him"-I looked away at that point-"can't control you." With his free hand, Jesse reached out and stroked my cheek. "But it's much harder to do it to a living person," he said this last part with only a tinge of sadness.  
  
Then, I took a really big chance: I laid my head on Jesse's wide-and did I mention very muscular? -chest. I'd never done that before. At least, I hadn't except when his ex-fiancé was trying to kill me. But I figured, why not?  
  
"But."I bit my lip.  
  
"But what?" Jesse leaned his chin on the top of my head.  
  
I pulled back just far enough to look up into Jesse's eyes. "Look, what's going to happen when Paul comes back? I mean, jeez, Jesse, he's already killed three other girls. I knew the guy was sick, but I didn't know he was that sick. What if he comes back to try and kill me again? Oh, God, I don't think I could go through all of that again." I was talking really fast. So fast, in fact, that I was surprised that Jesse could even understand me.  
  
"But, Susannah," Jesse said, looking puzzled. "Paul is dead."  
  
I blinked at him. "What," I demanded, "are you talking about?"  
  
Jesse shook his head. "When I noticed that you were unconscious, I had to get you out of the warehouse before you burned to death. I left Paul there." His hands tightened around my shoulders. "When I looked back, the roof was in the process of collapsing."  
  
That explained how I'd managed to survive the fire. Jesse had pulled me out before I could get hurt-at least, more so than I already was. There was still one thing bothering me, though. I frowned. "Jesse, can I ask you a question?"  
  
"Of course, querida."  
  
I took a deep breath. "Look, I know that you left Paul in the warehouse, and they're probably going to find his body soon, but I was thinking about something when you said that just now." I glanced up at him. "Was Paul dead before the ceiling collapsed?"  
  
Jesse just looked at me for a moment. Then, he said, "Are you asking me if I killed Paul before I saved you?"  
  
I nodded silently, not trusting my voice.  
  
Jesse, not letting go of my shoulders, stood up. He put his face up so close to mine that I could actually see the tiny stubble that was on his upper lip. I sucked in a breath. "Susannah," Jesse said firmly. "I didn't kill Paul."  
  
And I believed him. I was pretty sure that Jesse had never been the violent type when he was alive, but he'd really hated Paul. The thing is, and maybe it's just because I love him, I honestly couldn't believe that Jesse would kill someone. I mean, maybe he'd hurt them, but never kill them.  
  
And then I did something I never did before. See, Jesse was leaning in so close, it was making my heart pound so loudly that I'm sure he heard it. So right then and there, I cupped Jesse's face in my hands and kissed him.  
  
Now, I don't think I need to tell you how nice that kiss was. Especially when Jesse started returning the kiss. He wrapped his arms around my waist and drew me closer to him. I swear, there is no better feeling than to be in the arms of the guy of your dreams. It was all I could do to not run my hands through his silky black hair.  
  
Finally, Jesse broke the kiss, but he didn't let go of me. He just kind of stared down at me, like he was shocked that I had done that-or maybe he was shocked about the way he felt.  
  
Whatever it was Jesse was thinking right then, I never did find out. Because at that moment, he disappeared.  
  
I fell back on my bed, sighing. It's no joke, being in love with a ghost. But apparently, I didn't have much of a choice. I smiled, remembering the way Jesse's lips felt on mine. It wasn't all bad, I decided. Loving Jesse, I mean.  
  
Touching my mouth, my smile widened. No, it wasn't bad at all. 


	6. Acknowledgements

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS  
  
Disclaimer: I know I put a Disclaimer in my summary, but here's a full version: I do not own The Mediator. That lovely privilege belongs to Jenny Carroll/Meg Cabot. This story is only my version of "Haunted" and is only somewhat linked to the real thing. As an end note: PLEASE DON'T SUE ME!  
  
On another note, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed. I really appreciated reading everything that you had to say about my story.  
  
As we speak, I am thinking of a sequel to this story, and hopefully that will be up soon. Just simply email me at xgenies9x@aol.com and annoy me until I do. It always works. Well, okay, not always.  
  
Oh, and one more thing: Please read my other stories that I have written for ff.net. And review them. I have one that I wrote just to be silly, a romance, and two murder mysteries, one of which is finished but I haven't gotten around to posting it.  
  
I hope you guys all liked my story. As a side note, you can read the "history" of it:  
  
After reading the sample chapter for Haunted in June (not to mention finding out that it was coming out in January) I got the brilliant notion that I should write my own version of Haunted, based on the sample chapter.  
  
It literally took me six months to finish it. I switched ideas about ten times before I finally settled on the end result.  
  
After talking to ShadowKat (please read and review her story so she'll put up the next chapter!) I decided to post my story on ff.net. Now, three days later, I have finished my story and you can now all see what exactly happened after Suze got knocked on the head at the end of Chapter 5. 


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